


Youngster

by Inkognito97



Series: The ABC of Obi-Wan Kenobi [31]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Injury, Family, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Healing, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi Temple, Jedi principles, Memory Loss, Missing Apprentice, Punch-Up, Sith AU, Sith Apprentice Obi-Wan, Sith Dooku, Sith Qui-Gon, Sith family, Undercover as Jedi, Young Obi-Wan, missing person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9184528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkognito97/pseuds/Inkognito97
Summary: The tall figure shook his head in disgust. If he truly were a Jedi and not a Sith in disguise and in search for his lost apprentice, he would have helped them.Part 25 in 'The ABC of Obi-Wan'





	

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Wars or any of ist characters. I just borrowed them, forced them to do as I said (wrote) and afterwards I will give them right back (probably)...
> 
> Enjoy! XD

Youngster

 

Burning hate was all the tall male could feel for the pathetic lives that were screaming in pain and for his help and mercy. These were the same voices which had previously argued how to steal even more from the poor and unsuspecting people. These were the same voices that had declined every offer the Jedi had made to help them balance their society. And now, now it were their screams that begged for help. The tall figure shook his head in disgust. If he truly were a Jedi and not a Sith in disguise and in search for his lost apprentice, he would have helped them. Granted, he wouldn’t have arranged their deaths in the first place, but still. Since he wasn’t – a Jedi that is – he would just continue to watch them burn; metaphorically speaking as well as literally.

A lot of people had died during the explosion and died because of the poisonous gas, but those who had survived, were trapped inside the tall building, along with hot and all consuming flames. It was a gruesome death, but also fitting for those bastards, who allowed children to starve or to freeze in death.

Again the Sith shook his head. His Master had once taught him to look how a system treated its poorest and neediest and from this information, he would know how rotten a planet really was. And it was true. This planet – he had not even bothered to remember its name – was rotten to the core, but with the death of the leading group, it had gained another chance. It had gained the chance for a brand new start. It was just a shame that it always had to come to such drastic manners in order for giving a system a new chance. It was not like he actually enjoyed the killing – not even if it were such bastards – but more often than not, it was the last and only solution. This was one of the things the Jedi needed to understand. Even though the Sith highly doubted that they ever would. They chose to see the good in the worst systems and they would chose to stand aside and watch instead of act. It had always been this way, but at least there had been a time when the Sith and the Jedi coexisted in some way. This time however, was long over.

 

Wordlessly and without looking back just ones, did the tall man with the long brown hair – that was slowly starting to turn gray – walk towards his shuttle. It was a good thing that his shuttle was quite a distance away from the exploded senate building. This way, the Jedi Council would never connect him with the attack, especially if nobody had seen him. This way he could continue to play the perfect little Jedi. He would just tell the Council that he had not arrived soon enough and that it had been already too late and therefore impossible – even for him – to launch a rescue. They undoubtedly would believe him, they always did.

A quiet chuckle escaped his lips. The Jedi Council was just a bunch of blind old fools in his eyes. Fools, who did not even realize that they had allowed Sith to root and foster among their midst. His Master for an instance, he himself and his lost apprentice... Well, it would remain to be seen if his apprentice had truly been kidnapped by the Jedi, like his usually reliable source had told him. If not, then it was about time that the Sith in disguise found a new source. He doubted that he would need to however. His trust was not placed lightly after all...

* * *

Qui-Gon walked with long and confident strides through the temple corridors. He was heading for the only place in this Jedi-forsaken temple that he actually liked and even enjoyed, namely the Room of a thousand Fountains. He needed the serenity and calmness now, after the dreadful meeting with the Council. At least everything had gone according to plan. The great and wise Council members had believed every single lie he had told, without even thinking twice. They were just so naive and blind, especially Kit Fisto. He was the worst of them all in Qui-Gon’s eyes.

A strange sound caught the disguised Sith’s attention and therefore brought him out of his musing. Almost immediately his curiosity was spiked and with a longing gaze down the corridor that would have led him towards the Room of a thousand Fountains, he walked down the corridor that led in the opposite direction instead. Again a sound – this time louder – could be heard and now Qui-Gon identified it as a pained cry of a young child, which was promptly followed by cruel laughter. The Sith quickened his steps. If there was one thing he truly hated with every single pore and cell of his being, then it was when an innocent child was hurt.

The bearded man stopped dead in his tracks once he rounded the corner. The scene that took place in front of him, let his blood boil and caused the darkness in him to shift violently. Bruck Chun, the Initiate every being in the whole temple knew, was standing a few feet away from the Sith. The boy was almost thirteen years old, which meant that he was about to be send away to the Agri Corps. In all honesty, this did not surprise the long haired man in the slightest. The boy was too rotten to become a Sith and that alone meant something. Therefore it was no surprise that no Jedi wanted him either. The boy needed some manners, otherwise his rotten core would grow even more, which was probably happening now, while he and his little friends were standing around another child that was lying on the ground. Qui-Gon could barely make out the shivering back of – what looked like – a young boy. The boy on the ground was whimpering in pain and the disguised Sith soon realised why. The bullies’ knuckles were swollen and red and their clothes spotted a few stains of a substance that suspiciously looked like blood. The long haired Sith did not need to ponder long to figure out what had happened here.

 

“What in the name of the Force is going on here?” only with a lot of effort was the bearded man able to suppress his darkness. It wouldn’t do anybody any good, if his true nature was revealed by his ire and golden eyes.

Almost as soon as he had spoken the first word, the laughing boys grew silent and visibly tensed. They had heard the dangerous edge in the deep and clearly angry baritone voice. The Sith straightened to his full height out of instinct and gazed down in four upturned faces of the Jedi Order’s worst Initiates.

It almost looked as if Bruck Chun and his rotten friends had lost all their previous courage. One of them was even trembling and another one looked as if he was about to wet himself any minute now. Bruck Chun himself looked up at the older male with wide eyes. Qui-Gon knew that the boy had hoped that he would take the Initiate as his Padawan. Not that the Sith would even consider this apprenticeship in a million years, not even if he hadn’t already an apprentice. Granted, the apprentice was not available and findable at the moment, but Qui-Gon was working on that.

“M...Master Jinn, I... I mean we, I mean I... eh,” Chun was stuttering complete nonsense, obviously trying to find a good lie to escape trouble and punishment.

“Enough!” the Sith Master’s voice thundered, causing the Initiates to jump in shock and fear. He was not in the mood for mindless chat and it probably showed on his bearded face, with the way his mouth was set in a firm line and his brows were furrowed tightly. “You will go to Master Yoda and explain – in detail – what you have done here. If you don’t, then I am personally going to make sure that you not only will be properly disciplined, but also send away and punished in the worst imaginable way. Have I made myself clear?” The deep baritone voice had been calm – almost too calm – yet the Initiates could only nod shakily, before they took off as if the Force itself was after them.

Qui-Gon allowed himself to take a few deep and calming breaths, before he finally turned his attention to the boy – and it was indeed a humanoid boy with coppery hair – who was now curled up in a tied ball on the unforgiving ground. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tall man kneeled down and he carefully reached out. The boy tensed upon the contact, but this did not stop the Sith from reaching out with the Force as well. The moment Qui-Gon’s Force presence touched the boy’s, something warm and all too familiar settled in the Sith’s chest. That and the boy’s shaky and uneven breathing calmed and his muscles relaxed, so that the older male was able to turn him onto his back. The boy whimpered in pain and Qui-Gon hummed in sympathy, before gasping in shock when the most beautiful blue-green eyes in the entire universe meet his own blue ones. The blue-green orbs were suspiciously bright however and these were undoubtedly tearstains on bruised and bloody cheeks. Qui-Gon’s heart clenched painfully at the sight.

“Obi-Wan...” the Sith gasped out surprised. Could it really be?

Surprise was mirrored in the ginger haired male’s eyes. “Master Jinn?” a tiny voice wanted to know. The long haired man could only nod his head, not quite trusting his voice. “How do you know my name?” at least the boy did not sound so scared anymore.

Qui-Gon swallowed the lump that had started to form in his throat. It felt like a great and heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, only to be replaced by an almost painful pressure in his chest. “I... I must have heard it from one of your crèche Masters,” the lie came quick to the Master’s lips. There was doubt in the younger male’s eyes, but for now he just accepted the other male’s answer. Qui-Gon could fully understand it.

Obi-Wan shifted slightly and winced in pain. Only then did the Sith come back to the here and now and he quickly scanned the younger male’s visible wounds and injuries.

“We should do something about your injuries, young one.”

The boy’s eyes went wide, “Don’t take me to the healers... please!” he pleaded. The long haired man grimaced, he should have expected this answer.

“If you promise to let me treat you and if you are going to answer ALL my questions truthfully, then I will not take you to the healer wing.” Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, which is why the bearded man gently reached out again and took the light body in his arms, pressing the young child tight against his chest, without hurting him of course. The boy rested his head trustingly against the Master’s chest that was covered by the beige tunics the Jedi always wore. He felt strangely comfortable like this, with his eyes closed and listening to the older man’s steady heartbeat. The Master’s movement helped to soothe the distressed mind and before Obi-Wan realised it, did the pair walk through a door, into a warm and open room. Curiously did the young male raise his head and he gazed around the cosy living room, of what he considered the Master’s quarters. A brown leather couch – its colour was lighter than the colour of Qui-Gon’s robe – stood in the middle of the room and a small glass table before it. Countless of plants of different colours and sizes decorated the homely room and Obi-Wan immediately liked it.

 

The disguised Sith continued to carry his young charge into another room, his bedroom. He did not spare the books – actually real books made of paper and quite a lot at that – that lay on the ground, any attention, but gently lowered the ginger haired child on the green blanket that covered his bed. The boy looked around and sometimes his gaze would come to rest on one of the closed boxes that stood in the shelves or on one of the few pictures he had in his room.

“Wait here,” the Master ordered gently and then left to search for a first aid kit in his bathroom, which was just opposite of the bedroom. Thankfully it did not take him long to find all the items he had searched for.

With skilled and practised fingers, did Qui-Gon take care of the blue and swollen bruises, the small fractures and the bleeding nose. Thankfully it had only been a single milk tooth that the ginger haired boy had lost. The broken rib was more complicated however. Qui-Gon had to set it with the use of the Force and despite the pain, Obi-Wan made not a single noise. The Sith was more than impressed by such bravery from one so young. During the whole process, Qui-Gon tickled the wanted answers out of Obi-Wan. Apparently it was quite usual for Bruck Chun and his ‘friends’ to bully other children, they usually were not so brutal however. Apparently Obi-Wan had stood up and protected a few of those children and it had earned him so many painful injuries, and possible, a small trauma.

 

Only when the child was soundly asleep in the bearded man’s large bed, did Qui-Gon allow himself to sigh in relief. Obi-Wan would sleep for a few hours due to the painkillers and the Sith’s Force suggestion. This would give Qui-Gon enough time to collect his emotions and to talk with his Master. With a last glance towards the sleeping form, did the Sith leave his quarters. He would not need to worry, Obi-Wan would be save and he would make sure to return before the boy would wake up again.

* * *

“Qui-Gon,” the surprised voice of Yan Dooku sounded as he opened the door to his quarters, only to see a familiar figure standing before him, “what brings you here?”

Without answering or offering any way of greeting, the taller male gently moved his former teacher out of his way and stepped inside the quarters before he locked the door.

Dooku was about to repeat his question, when Qui-Gon finally opened his mouth, “I found him.”

“Who?” the older male asked, now more confused than before.

“My apprentice,” Qui-Gon exclaimed and grabbed the other’s elbows, “Obi-Wan... I finally found him.”

Dooku’s eyes first went wide and them something very close to a true smile formed on his face. Dooku – especially when he pretended to be a Jedi – acted as if he was a stoic and unapproachable man, but in reality, he was kind-hearted and like a father to the long haired Sith. He was also something like a grandfather and role-model for Obi-Wan. “These are indeed great news, my former apprentice.” He must have picked up on the younger man’s dimming mood, for he continued, “What is the matter, Qui-Gon? Is he alright? Where exactly is he?”

Hesitantly the older male seated himself on the cushioned seat in the living room, right across Dooku’s couch. The couch held quite a few good memories of Qui-Gon’s apprenticeship. “He is... here, sleeping in my quarters to be exact.”

Dooku’s brows furrowed, “What happened?”

The younger Sith scoffed and avoided the piercing gaze of his former Master, “I found Obi-Wan being bullied by some Initiates... they had beat him to a bloody pulp.” He took a deep breath, “He couldn’t remember anything of... well, of me or of his apprenticeship. He truly believes that he is a Jedi and that he always was and... and he couldn’t even remember me, not even the slightest bit.”

The Sith’s shoulders sacked in defeat and had he looked up, he would have found his position mirrored by Dooku. “I am sorry to hear that.”

Qui-Gon nodded, “Me too... then again, it might be a good opportunity.”

“What are you thinking of?”

The long haired male finally looked up, “I am just saying that it could make everything easier. If we find a way to restore his memories, then I can pretend to take him on as my Padawan when in truth-“

“-you are training him to be a Sith,” Dooku finished the sentence.

A sharp nod, “Exactly.”

“As brilliant as ever,” Dooku gave his younger companion a small smile.

“Only thanks to your teachings, my Master.”

Dooku huffed, “Flattery will not work on me, my young apprentice,” the older Sith had decided to join the slight teasing. It felt right, just like in old times. Then his mood turned serious again. There was still one thing on his mind. “How are you going to restore his memories?”

Again Qui-Gon’s shoulders slightly slumped, but this time, his determined eyes remained locked with Dooku’s. “I have not quite figured it out yet, but I will.”

“Of course you will,” the white haired man stated confidently, “you are MY apprentice after all.”

 

Qui-Gon took this as a cue to be on his way again. He had a few things to take care of, one of them a young ginger haired boy, who was hopefully still sleeping. The Force suggestion and the sedative should have been enough to force the boy to sleep for a few hours, but with Obi-Wan you could never be too sure. The young Sith had a natural gift in the Force and even without him being conscious, it would purge the unwanted sleepiness out of his bones. Or in short, he was a great apprentice. Qui-Gon barely remembered his first failed attempt. Xanatos had been the boy’s name. He had been too arrogant, too sure of himself. It was quite ironic actually. Xanatos had searched for the power of the dark side, without even realizing, that it was offered to him already.

But Qui-Gon would not complain. Without Xanatos’ miserable attempt to end his life, he would never have met Obi-Wan. The boy, who had not even been reaching the long haired Sith’s hip at the time, had literally jumped in and defeated the dark haired teenager with Qui-Gon’s lightsaber. Of course Qui-Gon would have been able to free himself from the pitiful excuse of a Force inhibitor and he could have easily called his lightsaber back to his hand. But he had settled to lean back and enjoy the show. And he was not disappointed. Quite the opposite in fact, for he had gained a true apprentice so soon after losing some poor excuse. Needless to say the orphan in the dirty rags and with messy red hair had immediately agreed upon Qui-Gon’s offer. He had felt the connection too after all.

* * *

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, did Qui-Gon Jinn seated himself on the mattress of his own bed that was currently used by a twelve year old boy. The mattress gave way under his weight, but the sleeping form did not even stir.

Qui-Gon had just pictured the look Dooku would give him, could the old man see his former apprentice now. He was fretting over the resting form of a – more or less – healthy human male. Then again, Dooku would probably understand his fretting. Obi-Wan was a beloved member of their small family after all.

 

An annoying beeping brought the Sith out of his musing and with great reluctance did he get up again and took the call from his comlink. He shouldn’t have been surprised that it were Mace and Yoda on the other side. They were truly the only two Jedi, who at least possessed a little brain, despite Mace’s other shortcomings. They didn’t even lecture him, because he might have ‘kidnapped’ one of the Initiates, which could very well have been, because he had told them that he would take Obi-Wan Kenobi as his Padawan learner. The gazes they had exchanged said more than a thousand words. There was doubt and even some fear in their eyes.

Of course they were aware of Obi-Wan’s origin and now they worried for ‘Jedi Master Jinn’, who had already lost one apprentice to the dark side. They feared that the potential in Obi-Wan was still very much present and it was all very amusing and very ironic in the Sith’s eyes. In the end they gave up, probably because Qui-Gon might have mentioned the bond that had formed between him and the boy. Reformed would be the better word, but it would just raise unwanted questions. And thus was, how Qui-Gon found himself with a Padawan leaner, who did know nothing of his luck yet. Then again, luck was relative. Not that Qui-Gon believed in luck, he solemnly believed in the ways of the Force, but that was beside the point now. The point was however, that he would do everything in his power to bring back HIS sweet little Obi-Wan, his light in the darkest nights, his drop of water in the desert heat and his rock in the surf. All of the mentioned things, or you could just say, his son in all but blood.

 

 

The sound of bare feet made Qui-Gon turn around, just in time to see a certain ginger haired male walk through the door into the living room. The boy was partly yawning and rubbing his eyes. He had not realized that Qui-Gon was watching him and the Sith in question had no desire to change that yet.

After a few strands of ginger hair were pushed away, did blue-green eyes turn to the tall male, who was standing in the middle of the room, patiently waiting. There was no surprise in the young eyes and Qui-Gon only barely kept himself from smiling. So the imp HAD known that he was being watched.

“Why hello there, young one.” The tall Master eventually broke the silence.

“Hello, Master Jinn,” the boy visibly relaxed and his clever eyes darted through the room, undoubtedly inspecting and analyzing everything that seemed important. The born strategist, at least that is what Dooku had once said.

“How are you feeling?” Qui-Gon wanted to know.

“Alright I guess.” He quickly continued at the raised eyebrow he recieved, “I am still sleepy and it hurts...” he trailed off and avoided the older man’s gaze.

The Sith Master had not expected anything else form his foster son. He knew Obi-Wan better than anybody else, as was the case the other way around. He knew he could trust his little red-haired devil with everything, except his one health. “Are you hungry?” he eventually asked.

Obi-Wan shook his head, “No, sir.”

The older man hummed. This was not unusual after being sedated, even though, his apprentice had the tendency to not eat regularly or very well. He reached up and pulled out the leather tie that held his hair in a braid and out of his face, all the while being watched by blue-green orbs. The older male shook his head, causing his auburn hear to fly around and settle on his shoulders. He was in the process of redoing his braid, when a shy voice asked, “Shall I help you, Master?”

The question had been unexpected and thus was why Qui-Gon froze in mid-movement. Obi-Wan had always enjoyed playing and braiding his hair, even when he was still very young and small. “I would be honoured,” the Sith finally answered, after he realized that the nervous fidgeting was, because he had not given an answer yet.

A small smile appeared on young features and with a mental sigh, did Qui-Gon kneel on the ground right in front of the couch. This way, the younger male could climb atop the cushioned furniture, which the boy immediately did. It didn’t take long for him to start his task and the Sith Master was soon reminded of all the quite evenings he and his young charge had shared, doing nothing, but enjoying the calm and peace. Apparently he was not the only one.

“It’s strange,” Obi-Wan mumbled, after he had combed through the long dark locks.

“What is?” Qui-Gon asked. He couldn’t quite place it, but something deep inside him had begun to tingle.

“I feel as if I have done this countless of times already... but it isn’t possible.” The older man’s heart had started to speed up a little bit. Could this be his apprentice remembering who he really was? But before the Master could come up with an answer, something else caught the ginger haired boy’s attention. He hesitated for a moment, but then he gently lifted a thin braid that had rested right under Qui-Gon’s usual thick braid and had therefore been hidden from view. Qui-Gon had forgotten that it was there himself. A single blood red bead was attached to the three strands of hair that had been interwoven. “I know this bead,” Obi-Wan began and unknowingly the older of the two held his breath, “I have gifted it to you, after... after you took me as your apprentice.”

Something changed in the boy and his whole posture tensed. He let go of the bead and his blue-green eyes widened in shook. The larger man turned to face his charge, still on his knees on the floor, and cautiously reached out for his apprentice. “Obi-Wan...”

“Master,” this single word broke the dam. It wasn’t like the Sith in training hadn’t uttered the word before, but this time it held a certain undertone to it.

“My child,” the Master allowed himself to smile at his young companion and without further ado, he had pulled the boy from the couch, onto his lap. Obi-Wan clung onto him like a drowning man. “Oh Obi-Wan, I had been so worried.”

“I am sorry Master!” sobbed the ginger haired boy into the older male’s neck, “If I had been stronger-“ “Hush, young one,” Qui-Gon soothed the distressed male in his arms, while stroking the ginger locks. “If you had been stronger, they would have imprisoned you, or worse, they would have killed you.”

“I am sorry,” the boy repeated.

“Don’t be,” the tall man was surprised how gentle and calm his own voice sounded. But then, he was just glad to have his son back. “I am very proud of you, my imp.”

 

Neither male knew how long they sat there, with Qui-Gon leaning against the couch and Obi-Wan in his Master’s loving arms. At one point, it became clear that the boy’s exhaustion was taking over and with a grunt, the Sith Master got to his feet and carried his precious cargo into his bedroom. The apprentice was gently lowered onto the bed and tucked in again.

“What is going to happen now, Master?”

Qui-Gon gave his little devil a small smile, “Now you are going to sleep, my imp, and tomorrow... well, tomorrow you are going to help me, move the furniture. Now that I have a Padawan, I have to reorganize my rooms, after all.”

Confusion was plainly written on young features, but not a second later, the furrowed brows smoothed out and a wicked smile appeared on Obi-Wan’s face. Qui-Gon chuckled mentally, leave it to his brat to figure the hidden message between his words out in an instant. “I cannot await it, my Master.”

“Me neither Padawan,” The last word was emphasized mockingly, “but now, rest.” He bent down to leave a kiss on his charge’s forehead, before turning off the light in the room. “Sleep well, my child.”

“Good night, father,” came the drowsy reply and in the next moment, Obi-Wan had fallen into a dreamless sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this (relatively) short one-shot.^^
> 
> I would REALLY appreciate it, if you leave a review and tell me what you think.
> 
> My Tumblr: inkognito97.tumblr.com


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